


Peasant

by LamiaHypnosia



Series: Outside The Fire [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: First Impressions, Friendship, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 18:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamiaHypnosia/pseuds/LamiaHypnosia
Summary: After a brief encounter, Danni recalls her first impression of the Brotherhood commander.





	Peasant

Danni pressed a finger to the last bottlecap on the table and slid it carefully to the others.  
"Two thousand, five hundred eighty four bottlecaps."  
She grinned. This was more than she'd hoped for. The past three months had been profitable for Daniella Prower. She hadn't been born a caravaner. Her tribe in the Capital Wasteland seldom sent anyone outside the camp to trade, and certainly not the archdruid's granddaughter. She'd left- goodness it was nearly four years ago. She was almost twenty now and felt very independent for the first time in her life. Heretofore she'd sold scrap-enough to get enough caps for a meal- told her story in the most heart wrenching way possible so a family would give her shelter for a night, or cozy up to a fellow with deep pockets and a handsome face. If she hadn't she'd have been married off to an eligible boy close to her age selected by her grandfather to sire children on her and continue to carry out musty ritual duties.  
Here though she could be of use. Working for the Minutemen was steady work, however dangerous. Danni had left following some rebellious streak and the thrill of danger outside the smothering arms of the tribe was liberating, exciting. There were plenty of caps in the world and she knew how to get her hands on them. A silver tongue, a deceptively sweet face, and a 10 mm were all weapons in her arsenal. The Brotherhood of Steel were unmoving in their pricing. Not like they didn't have the deepest coffers in the Commonwealth. Danni was disappointed when the attractive blond scribe with the nice smile with whom she usually did her dealings was replaced with a grizzled middle aged woman. Then again the Brotherhood's professionalism was refreshing. She could only endure the scribe's awkward laughs and broad hints at dinner once his duty shift was over so long.  
A clamor of voices got her attention. Danni looked up to see a woman of middle years in a power armor frame, various tools thrust into its structure. Diane had mentioned Proctor Ingram, the chief engineer of the Prydwen who had lost her legs in an accident which confined her to the rig. A voice called "Proctor Ingram, I-"  
Whatever the rest of the sentence was, Danni did not hear it as it was pitched too low but she recognized the owner of that voice.  
Just three months ago the Reverent had come to the Commonwealth. Danni's own grandfather Tobias Prower, styling himself archdruid and the chief of their tribe, had settled into an old water treatment plant. Danni had discovered her grandfather had mutated a parasitic plant to cleanse the world of radiation. The plant, called the Thorn, had devoured all life and while the results made for fertile soil the cost had been steep. He'd taken to feeding dissenters and enemies to the Thorn, including Danni's own parents. The Reverent saw the Brotherhood of Steel as their great enemy as hoarders of lost technology and only through the combined efforts of the Brotherhood and the Minutemen they fought back the Reverent protecting the Commonwealth. Danni had been there when her grandfather was executed- impaled through the chest by a rogue Institute courser calling himself Hunter Kirkland.  
The General of the Minutemen, Diane McKagan, had hosted a feast to celebrate the victory over the Reverent. Extend hospitality to their allies, discuss future dealings- it wasn't just a show of respect it was a power play 'look upon our well laden tables- you'd be nowhere without us.' Everyone was surprised when the top brass declined- and yet their Elder attended with a few soldiers in tow. The occassion was mostly somber out of respect to heavy losses on both sides but as the alcohol flowed the mood lifted. A militiaman announced the arrival of each important figure as though they were royalty.  
"Field Scribe Hannah Haylen, Brotherhood of Steel.'  
"Paladin Michael Danse, Brotherhood of Steel.'  
There were a few others Danni didn't remember. More knights, other scribes but the last made everyone turn to stare.  
"Elder Arthur Maxson, supreme commander of the East Coast Brotherhood of Steel."  
He'd paused and closed his eyes briefly, hands clasped behind his back. Danni didn't blame him. This entire affair was ludicrous.  
The last was Diane herself and each title made Danni groan louder even as the militiamen let up wild cheers.  
"Diane McKagan, Sole Survivor of Vault 111, the Woman Out Of Time, General of the Minutemen" the herald had to pause to let the shouts die down. "Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel, Black Heart, Breaker of Collars."

At the head of the table stood Diane in full capacity of General of the Minutemen, dressed to within an inch of her life in colonial attire as she raised a hand for silence.  
'Ladies and gentlemen. I would like to take this moment to welcome you to the Castle. Forever may it stand in honor of our ancestors who opposed tyranny to found this great nation. I would also like to extend my sincerest gratitude toward our brothers and sisters in Steel for their strength in arms and valor on the battlefield. But as we know too all well-war, war never changes. We will do anything to protect the things and people we hold dear. When we find ourselves facing insurmountable odds we must shelter the storm together. Let us not forget the men and women who gave the ultimate sacrifice to purchase another dawn for the Commonwealth."  
Diane raised her glass high. "Hail to the glorious dead!"  
A great cry of 'hail!' had gone up from a hundred throats, loudest was from those further ahead in their drinking and as one they raised their cups, bottles and glasses and drank deep. Beside the long table to the right of the general sat Elder Arthur Maxson. Danni had seen him before- the day her grandfather was executed. Then he'd been bloodied and beaten by Reverent madmen. Here he was somber but well groomed and after drinking the toast draped his fingers over the glass. One of the Minutemen -a tall woman with bleached hair- stopped by his side. "Whiskey neat, right?"  
Moving his hand Danni could not hear the Elder swear under his breath as the militiawoman clearly unsuited for domestic tasks sloshed the whiskey into his glass untidily. Instead, Maxson made a tiny hand gesture which Danni interpreted as 'whatever, this is fine.' and sucked a drop of the spirit off his thumb.  
"Jesus, Mickey!" Danni scolded. "Quit spillin' the booze!" Starting up out of her chair Danni shooed the woman away. "Sorry about Mickey. She's useless in everything a fight."

Maxson grunted in reply. Not much of a conversationalist, Danni thought. The food was served though much of it was packed up to be sent to the Prydwen so those who could not attend could still enjoy the fare. Grilled radstag, roast brahmin, warm razorgrain bread and sweet corn bread, all manner of soups and stews. Danni ate quickly then excused herself to oversee the distribution of plates to the sentries. The Brotherhood and Minutemen alike spoke fondly of homecooked meals, exchanging wild stories about what they'd resorted to eating in the field. A few settlers had even brought along instruments and after some preparatory sawing and whanging they took up a sweet melancholy tune, the words in a warm tenor sung by a man plucking a banjo. Beside him a young woman sang harmony and Danni guessed from her appearance she was the singer's close kin, his daughter perhaps. Danni had only heard recordings of music. She wasn't the only one enchanted by these real life musicians who in spite of hardship took up an art to enrich the lives of others. Others turned to watch, and the smiles that grew on their faces made Danni feel a warmth she could not really understand.

The long table was cleared and people mingled with drinks and cigarettes in hand. A few stayed seated talking in pairs or small groups. Elder Maxson however sat alone for a time though sometimes Scribe Haylen or Paladin Danse would stop by to speak to him. Like everyone else Danni was surprised at his youth. He was broad shouldered and hard of muscle, with a strong jaw and unlike most men Danni knew was committed to sincere beard growing instead of five o clock shadow or a half assed goatee. He turned to Danni and gave her a nod of deference.  
They were stern but warm, those eyes. Steel blue, appropriately enough. Was that stupid to notice? Danni realized she'd been staring so she smiled and looked away. _So that's the big bad Maxson. He looks like he has an entire tree wedged up his backside but he has beautiful eyes, I'll give him that._  
"Danni, you ready?" MacCready threw down his cigarette and stepped on it. Danni turned and sighed at him. "I wasn't gonna leave it there." He grumbled and picking up the butt deposited it into a nearby ashtray.  
"Those things are gonna kill you." Danni said absently. She looked toward the door just in time to see Proctor Ingram pass through and Elder Maxson after her. It was only a fraction of an instant but he caught her eye, smiled politely and continued on his way. _He must recognize me from the Castle._ She didn't realize she'd made such a strong impression. _Well maybe it was because I wasn't bowing and scraping like a peasant trying to appease the king._ Sliding a portion of the caps off the table into a tin she handed it to the merc.  
"Here's your cut. Let's git."


End file.
